True Detective: New Rome
by maximuscato
Summary: Mystery, noir, political intrigue, action: In the years following Gaea's war, New Rome has become a sprawling metropolis, and trouble is brewing. Reyna is struggling to maintain her grip on a city sliding towards disaster, and Frank has gone missing. Enter Liam Davis, legacy and disgraced ex-legionary. He's moonlighting as a private detective, and Hazel has a job for him.
1. Chapter 1

I hated New Rome in the summer. Even before the city had become so crowded, New Rome had always been sweltering in the hot months. But now, with the city bursting at the seams and sprawling in every direction, the heat was oppressive. It was the kind of heat that made it hard to get your head straight. My thoughts felt slow and sluggish. It didn't bode well.

I was supposed to meet my informant at the corner of Jackson Square. The kid was late – as usual. I reminded myself to stop using street urchins to get my news. Most of the time they never showed up, and even when they did what they gave me was normally useless. I sighed and checked my watch. I'd wait another minute.

I slouched in the shade of an overhanging archway, and casually watched the passers-by. A statue of the great Percy Jackson stood at the center of the square, in the middle of a fountain that had long since stopped working. Water was too scarce, even to be used to adorn a monument to one of the city's greatest heroes. The teenager, etched in stone, gazed over the rooftops, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. I wondered what the guy had been like, and whether he was enjoying Olympus after Zeus made him a god. It made my stomach turn to think about Percy floating up somewhere in the sky, scoffing down ambrosia, while the rest of us suffered in the world he'd left behind.

Percy would not have recognised New Rome. It was amazing to see how much the city had changed in just the space of a few years. Unfortunately, the place had not transformed for the better. After Gaea had been defeated and the gods felt safe again, they'd started to recognise more and more of their descendants and legacies. They thought they were doing them a favour of course; who wouldn't be over the moon to find out that their parent was a god, right? Well, turns out it's less people than you'd think.

Once these people had their eyes opened to this new world of magic and monsters, there was no turning back. People who'd once lived ordinary lives as accountants and school teachers suddenly didn't know what the hell was true anymore. Their entire existence screwed up overnight. Must have been quite the headache.

For those that didn't completely lose their minds, there was only place to go; New Rome. With this giant influx of people, the once charming little town had become a giant, ugly metropolis. And you put that amount of people together in one spot… well, it's only a matter of time before they start rubbing each other the wrong way. Factor in that most of these legacies didn't even want to be here in the first place, and you had a simmering pot of anger and resentment just waiting to boil over.

I felt a tug at my sleeve.

"Hey Liam!" I turned to see a grubby little face grinning up at me, eyes bright beneath a mop of dirty blonde hair.

"What's up Jimmy" I replied, raising my eyebrows when I saw a large bruise beginning to blossom purple on his arm. "I thought you were keeping out of trouble these days?"

Jimmy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Got on the wrong side of a legionary's _pilum._ You know how it is."

I smiled.

"Certainly do."

Jimmy scratched furiously for a moment at an itch behind his ear, before shaking himself like a dog.

"How'd you get kicked out of the legion anyway?" he asked offhandedly. "Watcha do?"

I laughed.

"One of these days I might tell you, Jimmy. But your note said you have information for me."

Jimmy nodded furiously.

"Yup. Sure do. But I want my _denarii_ first."

I shook my head.

"That's not how it works, Jimmy. Information first. If it proves useful, then you get your money."

Jimmy groaned.

"You're a real hard-ass, you know that?" he told me reproachfully. "Fine. I've heard from a couple of people that who you're looking for hangs out in an old apartment block on Caesar's Lane. Always lounging about there, apparently."

He held out his hand.

"Now, _denarii_."

I tutted.

"Not a chance. You're going to take me there. If what you say is right, you'll get what you're owed."

Jimmy looked like he was tempted to argue but thought better of it. He turned on his heel and headed off westwards, leaving me scrambling to keep up.

 **Hey everyone, this is my first fan fic so I hope you all enjoy! This is a darker take on the Percy Jackson universe, and will be in the detective/crime/mystery genre. New Rome has evolved (for reasons that will become clear) into a big, sprawling metropolis that is rife with crime and corruption. Liam Davis – the protagonist – is a classic anti-hero who gets involved in a giant conspiracy way over his head! If you're a fan of crime dramas, then you'll love what I have planned! Don't forget to review and dm me if you have any thoughts :)**


	2. Chapter 2

We passed enormous rows of tents and hastily constructed buildings in tight, winding rows. New Rome had simply never been designed for a population of this size. Reyna and her military administration had done their best to organise the tide of refugees coming into the city, but there was only so much they could do. Her fellow _praetor_ Frank Zhang had gone missing too, which hadn't helped.

Caesar's Lane was a squalid little location, especially for a place named after such a grand figure. The apartment was half falling down, but that didn't mean it was empty. Residents of New Rome were so desperate for a roof over their heads that they'd even stay in a dump like this.

Jimmy stopped and pointed.

"That's it there. Don't know anything else."

As I looked, I saw a flash of brown in one of the second story windows.

I dug out a coin from my pocket and flicked it to the kid.

"Good work, Jimmy. Keep in touch."

Jimmy caught the coin and grinned, showing me his teeth.

"Cheers boss."

I entered the apartment building from the front and hurried up a narrow flight of stairs. People shouted protests as I barged past, but I ignored them. If I succeeded in my mission, I was about to get a major pay day. No more tins of beans for dinner. Maybe I'd even treat myself to a dinner in the forum. My mouth watered at the thought.

I broke onto the landing and my eyes alighted on exactly what I wanted to see.

"Finally. I've found you" I whispered.

The brown spotted tabby cat looked back at me and mewed in confusion.

"You've been quite the tough little man to find, Mr Whiskers" I told the cat softly as I approached, my hands held palms upward in a placating gesture. "Your owner has been worried sick…"

I was close enough to almost reach out and grab the cat when there was a loud bang from behind me as a door slammed. Mr Whiskers bolted immediately, fleeing down the hall.

I swore loudly and furiously turned to see who was responsible for the noise. It was a girl, about my age – sixteen or so – with shoulder length black hair and sardonic green eyes that appraised me with amusement.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" the girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

I scowled.

"Sorry, I was just off put by you closing your door with the force of a gunshot" I shot back. "I'm surprised you haven't woken up the whole block."

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Well aren't we precious" she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "I'll make sure that I close _my_ door, to _my_ apartment, in _my_ building in a way that works for _you_ in future."

I opened my mouth to make a witty retort, but nothing came out. Instead I settled for scowling some more and made to push past her. She shot out a hand, blocking my way.

"If we're going to insult each other, we may as well exchange names" she said, smirking. "I'm Kate."

"Yeah?" I said, disinterestedly. "Well, I'm going to be hungry tonight if I don't get that cat so if you'll excuse me…"

I ducked underneath her arm and ran in the direction Mr Whiskers had gone. I eventually found him sunbathing on a window sill, three floors up. By this time, I was thoroughly out of breath and in a foul mood. I grabbed the cat by the scruff of his neck, ignoring the animal's yowls of protest.

"Come on Mr Whiskers" I muttered as I tucked him beneath my arm. "Let's go get paid."


	3. Chapter 3

Mr Whiskers erstwhile owner lived in the leafy outer suburb of Palatine. Located on a hill, and far enough outside of the city to allow its residents to escape the heaving mass of people that filled the streets of New Rome, it was a haven for the wealthy. I couldn't afford to live there – not a by a long shot. But those who could made up most of my clientele.

Calling myself a private investigator or a detective would be far too grand. Really, I'm just a finder of lost things. If you misplace something that's important to you, I'll hunt it down. For a price. My job requires me to rub shoulders with a lot of unsavoury characters and do a lot of things that others won't. But that's what they pay me for.

This particular client had offered a two hundred _denarii_ reward for the ball of fur that was now purring contentedly at my side as I trudged up Palatine Hill. Legionaries on duty eyed me suspiciously as they stood in the hot sun, sweating in their heavy armour and plumed helmets. It was pretty obvious that in the affluent neighbourhood of Palatine, I stood out like a sore thumb.

The house I arrived at was a beautiful piece of Roman architecture; the archetypal villa, it had high marble arches and expansive Bay windows surrounded by perfectly maintained gardens. I looked around enviously. I kicked myself for not demanding more than two hundred _denarii_ for finding the stupid cat. Anyone who was rich enough to own this place could have afforded ten times that.

I knocked on the heavy oak gate wearily, absently stroking Mr Whiskers. I had almost become fond of him after everything we'd been through. After a lengthy pause, the gate creaked open and a servant in a crisp white toga eyed me with distaste.

"Can I help you?" he asked coldly. It was clear from his tone that he would much rather I just went away.

I smiled broadly, just to tick him off.

"Yes, actually" I replied. "Would you tell Lady Octavia that a Mr Whiskers is here to see her."

The servant withdrew for a moment before reappearing and hurriedly motioning me inside. As I entered, there came a high-pitched screech of delight and a figure barrelled towards me at breakneck pace. I was met by an ecstatic Lady Octavia, adorned in expensive looking silks.

"Oh, you found him!" she trilled excitedly, plucking Mr Whiskers from my hands and twirling the cat around in the air. Mr Whiskers seemed less than delighted to be reunited with his owner and hissed petulantly. Lady Octavia ignored this completely and plopped a big kiss on the cat's nose, much to his displeasure.

The Lady Octavia was an attractive woman in her late twenties, making her considerably older than me. Most of New Rome's residents were young – the vast majority were under thirty. You either made it to New Rome when you were younger and found refuge, or you perished at the hands of monsters. Lady Octavia was married to Lord Samuel Octavian, centurion of the Second Cohort in the Legion. Samuel was distantly related to the infamous Octavian, but far enough removed that he hadn't been involved in Octavian's schemes during the war with Gaea. The Octavian's could trace their lineage back to Ancient Rome, and Samuel Octavian was an eminently wealthy and important man in the city. With so many people now in New Rome, and more flooding in, the Legion had assumed control of governing. There was still the _Plebeian_ _Tribunate_ , or Council of the People, but it held very little sway. Despite claims maintained by _Praetor_ Reyna that military rule was simply a temporary measure, there was no sign of the Legion giving up its newfound power any time soon.

"Glad I could be of help" I told Lady Octavia. "He's such a… ah, beautiful creature. I can see why you'd hate to lose him."

Mr Whiskers poked his tongue out at me smugly from within his cocoon of Lady Octavia's dress. I glared back at him.

"Isn't he just _adorable"_ Lady Octavia cooed. "I was so distraught when he wandered off. Thank the gods you found him."

I wondered whether 'escaped' may have been a more accurate description but kept that thought to myself.

"Now, in terms of my payment" I mentioned to Lady Octavia, who was still obsessing over Mr Whiskers. She nodded distractedly.

"Of course. Two hundred, wasn't it?"

"Yes" I began, but before I could go on there was the sound of booming laughter and loud footfalls from the hall. Lady Octavia's husband was home.

I cursed silently to myself. This was not going to end well.


	4. Chapter 4

Lord Octavian swaggered into the room, his broad face lit up with amusement as he spoke animatedly with a few of his legion buddies. Once he spotted me however, the easiness bled out of his features and he pointed a pudgy finger in my direction. Lord Octavian would once have cut an imposing figure; now, his muscle had run to fat and he was pudgy in all the wrong places. He was still a good head taller than me however, and his friends looked to be experienced members of the Twelfth Legion. They carried _gladius'_ and would know how to use them. I swallowed nervously.

"What the _hell_ is this worm doing in our house?" Lord Octavian spat, directing the words to his wife but keeping his gaze fixed on me.

"Lord Octavian" I began, but he cut me off with a sharp gesture.

"I did not give you leave to address me" he snarled. "Mind your tongue in the presence of your betters."

I felt my face flush red with anger.

"Darling" Lady Octavian said placatingly, reaching out and patting her husband gently on the arm. "This boy was simply returning Mr Whiskers to me. I really am ever so grateful. I'm sure whatever he's done can't be that serious…"

Lord Octavian laughed.

"Still skulking about the city and running scams, are we?" he asked me, his mouth turning up in cruel amusement. "Fitting work for you."

Turning to his wife, Lord Octavian continued "This boy is Liam Davis. Once of the Fifth Cohort of the Legion, he was thrown out in disgrace. And now, apparently, he's my wife's errand boy."

Lord Octavian's friends laughed, clapping their leader on the back. He dug into his pocket and produced a few coins – nowhere near the two hundred _denarii_ I had been promised. He tossed them at me contemptuously.

"Here, take your money" he said, turning away. "Now get out of my house before I give you the beating you deserve."

I wanted to throw the money back in his face. But I didn't. My stomach was too cramped with hunger to stand on principle.

I headed out of the villa and discovered to my surprise that night had fallen. The air was slightly cooler, but not by much. I noticed a fine looking small statuette of a rosy cheeked Cherub perched in a hedge grove. I pocketed it. I could probably sell it at the market for a few _denarii._ I gave the Octavian residence the finger in a futile gesture of defiance, before exiting through the gate and making my way down Palatine Hill and back to the city.


	5. Chapter 5

I decided to call into _The Argo II_ on my way home. _The Argo II_ was the most ill-reputed, dirty, and downright dangerous tavern in New Rome. The drinks tasted awful, and the chance of being stabbed was high. Needless to say, I was a regular.

It was named after the ship the heroes of the prophecy had rode to victory upon against Gaea. That was before the lot of them had scarpered, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves. Sometimes, like everyone else, I thought about what they were doing, hidden away, and why they'd left. But mostly, I just didn't care.

Bellatrix, the landlady, looked up from the bar as I came in. She grinned at me roguishly.

"Hello love" she said, warmly. "Need a drink?"

"Badly" I replied, slumping into a stool. Bella poured me a pint of whatever the house lager was – no-one, including Bella, could ever tell me exactly what was in it – and I took a long sip. The cold liquid felt good on such a hot evening.

The tavern was doing a bustling trade, and across the bar I noticed my friend and sometime business partner Ernest Regina. He was a painfully skinny fifteen-year-old, with spiky black hair that gave him the constant impression of just being electrocuted. Noticing me, he waggled his eyebrows in my direction and made his way over.

"The hero returns" he commented dryly. "Did you find Mr Whiskers?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, I did, no thanks to you. I could have used your help. Took me most of the day to track the stupid animal down."

Ernie clasped his hands, as if in prayer.

"Thank the gods, Mr Whiskers is safe" he intoned, his voice mocking. "Cat owners all over the city rejoice and praise the name of Liam Davis."

"Yeah, yeah" I muttered into my drink. "Laugh it up. What did you get up to today?"

Ernie shrugged.

"Not much, to be honest" he told me. "Work is a little slow. I did hear Evan Lex talk in the forum today though. Seemed to be getting a lot of people worked up."

"Oh, isn't he _gorgeous_ " Bella sighed, dropping in on our conversation. "I don't usually give a toss about politics, but I'll listen when Evan talks."

Bella wasn't the only one in the city besotted with the guy. Evan Lex was the recently elected _Plebeian Tribune_ who had been causing quite the stir in New Rome of late. Young and charismatic, he had some radical ideas on how to solve the city's problems of inequality. People were turning out in droves to hear him speak.

"I'm surprised Reyna hasn't shut him down" I commented. "He's not exactly a cheerleader for the Legion, is he?"

"I'm sure she'd love to" Ernie said, sipping his drink. "But there'd be an uproar if she touched him. The people would be up in arms."

I nodded in agreement.

"True. And trouble is the last thing Reyna needs now, what with Frank disappearing and everything."

"Any word on that?" Bella asked as she began to clean glasses behind the bar. 'How long ago did he go missing?"

"About a month" Ernie said gloomily. "It's been terrible for business."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, interested. Ernie was in the _procurement_ business. You wanted something, Ernie could get it for you. Just don't ask him how he got it, because you don't want to know.

Ernie nodded.

"Frank was always an easier _praetor_ than Reyna and was smart enough to let sleeping dogs lie. Now he's gone, there's no one to reign her in. She's turned feral. Two of my shipments got seized by the Legion last night. Two! Do you have any idea how much that's going to cost me?"

Both Bella and I made suitably sympathetic noises. Ernie downed his drink, then got up.

"Well, I've got some salvaging to do" he told us, sliding his beer glass to Bella over the counter. "Maybe I can save something from this mess. See you guys around."

We waved as Ernie moped off.

"What a ray of sunshine he is" Bella joked once he'd gone. "I swear, Ernie is constantly in crisis. Never shuts up about it."

I shrugged.

"He's probably right to be. Seems like all of New Rome is headed for hell in a handbasket."

Bella scrutinised me for a moment.

"You don't seem particularly worried by that fact" she commented finally.

I tipped the bottom of my glass up towards the sky and finished it in one go.

"Why would I fear hell?" I asked her. "I live there."


	6. Chapter 6

Early the next morning, I had an unexpected visitor. If I'd known all of the trouble she'd cause me, I would have probably slammed the door in her face. But hindsight's 20/20.

I was in my office, trying to stir as much sugar into my coffee as physically possible to make the stuff fit for human consumption. I took a sip of the dark black liquid that had the texture of motor oil and shuddered. I am not a morning person.

When I say I was at my 'office', I mean that in the loosest possible definition of the word. My office was an old maintenance closet, set at the back of a hairdressers. I'd acquired the room after I'd helped the owner of the salon track down an ex-boyfriend of hers. Three broken windows and a hasty escape later, she had successfully vented her emotions after being cheated on, and I had a place to call my own.

There was enough space for me to set up an old card table to use as a desk, and a couple of rickety chairs for clients. The place wasn't much wasn't much, but it was mine and it sure beat standing out in the cold.

I didn't run ads, or openly canvas my services. I didn't need to. Those who needed my services always seemed to track me down in one way or another. And so, I wasn't hugely surprised when I got a knock at my door, announcing a prospective new client. I gave up on the coffee, which had transitioned to from motor oil to road tar and called for my visitor to enter.

As soon as she entered, I knew who she was. Everyone did.

Hazel Levesque, one of the heroes of the Prophecy of Seven. Hazel and Frank were the only heroes who had stuck around, and I'd always respected them for that. Pictures of her, along with those of her boyfriend Frank and the others who had helped defeat Gaea, adorned many parts of the city. She was nothing short of a celebrity. And here she was, in an old maintenance closet, meeting with me. Life can be weird.

"Miss Levesque" I said, hurriedly trying to stand and bumping my shin painfully on the table. "It's my pleasure."

Hazel smiled, but the gesture was weak and didn't reach her eyes. They betrayed her how she was really feeling; frustrated, upset, and painfully missing Frank. She was going through a lot. Frank had been missing for over a month now, and although the Legion had turned the city upside down looking for him, the guy had seemingly disappeared into thin air.

"It's Centurion Levesque, if we're using official titles" she said, glancing about the room and taking in the peeling wall paper and bare floor. "But I'd much rather we forgot about formality. Call me Hazel."

"Sure thing" I replied. "I'm Liam Davis."

"Oh, I know" Hazel said, her tone it ambiguous about whether that was a good thing. "I've heard a lot about you. I need your help."


	7. Chapter 7

I gestured to one of the chairs.

"Why don't you sit down?" I suggested. "Can I get you anything?"

Hazel perched herself daintily on the seat. She peered into the cup of coffee that I'd left on my desk.

"I think I'd better give the drink a miss" she told me, the corners of her mouth uplifting slightly in amusement. "Caffeine doesn't really agree with me, anyway."

"Probably wise" I agreed. "My coffee brew has been known to keep people awake for up to seventy-two hours."

Hazel smiled weakly at my stab at humour.

"So, what I can I help you with?" I asked her, settling back in my chair. "Since you're already here and you know who I am, I'm assuming you also know what it is I do."

"I do" Hazel said, toying with her sleeve. She was clearly nervous about being here. "I remember you actually. From your time in the Legion, before you…"

"Got kicked out?" I asked, grinning. "Yeah, I had some good times there. Putting super glue on the _augur's_ chair was a highlight."

Hazel frowned.

"He still won't sit down without checking the chair first, even now."

I laughed. "Really? That's hilarious."

"You didn't get expelled from the Legion for that though" Hazel said, looking at me inquisitively. "What did you do that made Reyna so mad?"

I paused, then waved my hand vaguely.

"Ah, it was a long time ago now" I said airily. "And besides, you didn't come all this way to talk about me. Your boyfriend has been missing for weeks, and no-one has clue where he's gone. I specialise in finding things that are lost. You must be here to retain my services. Am I right?"

Hazel nodded. She seemed resigned.

"I've done everything I can think of to find him. Reyna put every resource at my disposal. I must have torn through the entire city. But it didn't work, and Reyna is getting sick of looking. I think she's on the verge of giving up. I'm running out of time."

Her voice cracked as she finished speaking. I could see tears forming at the edge of her eyes, but she furiously blinked them away, composing herself.

"What makes you so sure he's still in the city?" I asked.

"New Rome's been on lockdown ever since the legacy influx, when we got such a surge of people coming in" Hazel told me. "There's no way whoever has him managed to smuggle him out. They must be keeping him somewhere in the city."

"So, you think he's been kidnapped?" I asked. "You're certain he hasn't gone somewhere of his own free will. In my experience, often those who go missing… they don't want to be found."

Hazel glared at me.

"If you knew Frank, you'd know what a ridiculous question that is" she said forcefully, her voice tinged with some real anger. "He is the most loyal person I've ever met. He would never abandon his post like that. He'd never abandon _me._ "

I raised my hands placatingly.

"OK, OK" I said, trying to calm her down. "I believe you. But this job would be way above my paygrade. A missing _praetor_? Who knows what Frank got caught up in. And if the entire Legion can't find him, what chance do I have?"

Hazel shrugged.

"Honestly? I don't know. But from what I've heard, you're the best. You never had any respect for authority during your time in the Legion, but you were good at what you did, even then. You're my final hope Liam. Please, help me find Frank."

She stared at me, her gold brown eyes pleading. I sighed noisily, rubbing my face. I knew I should turn her down. Say thanks, but no thanks – find someone else for your fool's errand. That would have been the smart thing to do.

But unfortunately, I don't have a track record of making smart choices.

"I'm in" I told her. "Tell me everything."


	8. Chapter 8

If you needed information, there really was only one person in New Rome to get it from; Anton Decker. He ran a shady and very much illegal gambling operation on the south side of the city that the Legion had been trying to shut down for years, but they'd always failed to pin anything on him. That was because no-one would ever sell out Anton; partly because they loved the guy, and partly because they were also terrified of him. Anton and I went way back; I'd used to give him information from the Legion every now and again back when I was in the Fourth Cohort. When I'd been expelled, he'd helped me set up my operation and put me in touch with prospective clients. Anton and I were close, but it always paid to be a bit careful around him. At the end of the day, there really was only one thing that Anton held sacred: and that was cold, hard _denarii._

I walked into a deli that served as the front for Anton's operation. I gave the guy at the counter the passcode, and he let me through to the back room. Hidden behind piles of crates and boxes, there was a stairway that led to a massive basement complex that housed the biggest gambling operation in the city. I made my way down the stairs and pushed open the door at the bottom.

A wave of sound hit me immediately as I slipped in. The bouncer at the door – a walking mountain of muscle known colloquially amongst patrons as Knuckles – nodded to me in greeting. The place was packed, as always. Rows of tables filled the underground hall, surrounded by mobs of people who groaned and cheered in equal measure as some made new fortunes, while others lost it all. Poker, Blackjack, Roulette, Craps; Anton's had it all. I spotted him standing on a balcony raised above the game floor, keeping careful watch over the players. He needed too – fights were common. One guy would accuse another of keeping a few cards up his sleeve, or using loaded dice, and before you knew it fists were flying in all directions.

Anton saw me come in and raised a hand in greeting. Anton's parents had been immigrants to America from Jamaica. He had inherited both their dark complexion and impressive height and carried with him an easy air of authority. I crossed the floor and went to meet him. He embraced me warmly, enveloping me in a bear hug.

"Well if it isn't my favourite detective" he said, his deep voice cutting through the background noise of the casino. "It's been a while, Liam. Good to see you."

"Likewise," I said, clapping him on the back. "Good to see this place is still doing a roaring trade."

Anton smiled modestly.

"We do the best we can" he said. "But Lady Luck has always been an irresistible mistress to many. All I do is facilitate their meeting her."

I grinned.

"Oh, so you're a dating agency! And here was me thinking you were just here to fleece people out of their money."

Anton tutted.

"I'm a romantic at heart, you know that" he told me seriously. "But what can I do for you, my friend?"

"I think it's best we talk in private" I said, looking around me. "It would be best if I didn't broadcast what I'm up to."

Anton raised an eyebrow.

"My interest is piqued" he said, before gesturing to a door behind us. "Let us retire to my private suite – I'm sure we have much to discuss."


	9. Chapter 9

"Something to drink?" Anton asked, gesturing at his expansive liquor cabinet. Bottles of all shapes and sizes lined the shelves, glinting merrily in the low light.

"Sure" I replied, settling on a leather armchair. Anton's drink collection was second to none – it would be travesty not to make use of it. "I'll have whatever you're having."

Anton grinned.

"Good choice."

He fetched two tumblers and tossed in some ice, the cubes rattling about in the glass with a satisfying _clink._

"So" Anton said, as he uncorked a bottle of bourbon and began to pour. "What's so important that we need to speak alone?"

"It's about our missing _praetor,_ Frank Zhang" I told him, accepting the glass of whiskey proffered and taking a sip. Damn, it was good. Better than the stuff I usually drank, which could double as industrial grade paint stripper. "I want to find him."

Anton took a seat opposite, regarding me over the lip of his glass.

"You and everyone else in the city" he commented dryly. "The guy has disappeared. Vanished. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't find him."

"True" I agreed. "But I'm guessing none of them thought to come and talk to you."

Anton smiled, his eyes mischievous.

"Well, they'd have to find me first" he said, taking a long drink. "And that's not a privilege I afford to everyone. Especially not those in the Legion."

"Lucky for me then, I'm no longer in the Legion" I said. "I need information."

"And what makes you think I have any?" Anton countered. "I could be just as much in the dark as you are."

I snorted in disbelief.

"If anyone in New Rome has something on Frank, it would be you."

Anton was quiet for a moment. I could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain.

"I'd likehim found" he said, breaking the silence. "New Rome needs Frank sitting on the _praetor's_ throne next to Reyna. I can feel the winds of change stirring, and it makes me nervous."

I nodded, not interrupting.

"I don't know where Frank is" Anton told me. "Whoever has taken him knows what they're doing. But I have heard… whisperings."

"Whisperings?" I asked excitedly.

Anton scrutinised me.

"Are you sure you want to go down this road?" he asked, his tone grave. "You're good at what you do, Liam, but New Rome has become a dangerous place. It's not known to be forgiving to those that get in over their head."

I frowned.

"Anton, come on, it's me we're talking about" I said, somewhat puzzled. "Since when have I not been capable of handling myself?"

"I know, I know" Anton said hurriedly. "It's just that… well, it doesn't matter. If you're _sure_ , then I'll help you."

I jutted my jaw and looked him square in the eye.

"Tell me" I said. "I need to know."

Anton nodded to himself, before getting out his chair and beginning to pace. He always did that when things were important.

"You're aware of the differences between demis and legacies, right?" he asked.

"Course I am" I replied. Demis, or demi-gods, actually had a god for a parent. The Olympians loved to fool around with mortals, and clearly weren't the best when it came to family planning. All legacies had a demi-god in their family tree, but they were more distantly related. Maybe a god was their granddad, or great-grandad. I was a legacy myself: my grandfather had been posted to the Pacific during the Second World War, and during his time there he'd caught the attention of Rhodos, one of the daughters of Poseidon. Rhodos wasn't a particularly powerful entity to begin with, and seeing as I was two generations removed, I had inherited almost no divine gifts apart from the ability to hold my breath under water for an abnormally long time and speak a smattering of dolphin. Go me.

Most of New Rome's population were legacies. Demis however held almost all the positions of power in the city, and spent their time looking down on the rest of us. Honestly, you give someone the ability to fly or shoot lightning and they think they deserve to rule the world.

"With the recent influx of legacies, they now outnumber demis ten to one" Anton went on. "But they're getting sick of constantly playing second fiddle. Reyna's recent policies of restricting legacies from running for the Senate certainly hasn't helped matters. Pro-legacy groups are sprouting up all over the city, and it's unclear how far they're willing to go to even the playing field."

"And you think one of these groups is involved in the abduction of Frank Zhang?" I asked.

Anton shrugged.

"It's a theory. I don't have any substantial evidence. But I trust my instincts."

I trusted Anton's instincts as well. His hunches usually proved correct.

"I have someone you can speak to" Anton told me. "He may be a dead end, but you never know. I'll set up a meeting."

"Thanks Anton, I appreciate your help."

"Don't mention it" Anton said, waving my thanks away casually. "I want Frank found too. Stability is the key to good business; if this whole city goes belly up, they'll be nobody left to spin the roulette wheels or throw the dice."

He eyed me, contemplatively.

"You will, of course, owe me a favour. But I'm sure we can work something out."

"Of course."

I shook Anton's hand and left, feeling very much like I had just sold my soul for cents on the dollar.


	10. Chapter 10

There was a crowd filling the forum as I walked past. The forum had once been a beautiful part of New Rome; an expanse of paved flagstones and hanging gardens where people could stroll about in the shade and converse with one another as the sounds of gently lapping water emanated from the replica Trevi fountain that stood in the centre of the square. Nowadays, the flagstones were dirty, the flowers had withered and died, and the once magnificent fountain stood broken and empty, a shell of its former self.

Over the heads of the assembled mass of people, I could see a figure standing on a raised platform. He was dressed simply, in the plain white robe of office that marked him as a Tribune of the People. Fair haired and muscular, Evan Lex cut a striking figure as he spoke passionately to the crowd, routinely being forced to pause as they roared their approval at his words.

"The Legion has abandoned New Rome" Evan was saying, his voice containing the quivering energy of barely controlled anger. "Every day, while the common people of this city suffer, Reyna and her lackeys sit in Camp Jupiter in the lap of luxury. They come down from their ivory tower only to grind us under the bootheel of military dictatorship."

There were catcalls from the crowd, and words of abuse flung at Reyna and the Legion. Evan held up his hand for silence.

"We cannot allow this injustice to stand. That is why I have tabled a new law before the Plebeian Council. If passed, it will strip the Legion of its illegal power and return New Rome to the people!"

Thunderous applause broke out from the crowd at his proclamation. As Evan raised his hands in acknowledgement, there came the sound of drumbeats and marching feet.

Legionaries spilled into the forum, sunlight glinting off their armour. They had their swords sheathed, which was a good sign, but carried short wooden batons. The soldiers took up positions in a loose ring around the crowd, which murmured in consternation and tightened their own ranks.

Lord Octavian appeared, resplendent in his centurion's uniform that was visibly stretched to cover his considerable girth. He produced a sheet of parchment and read from it aloud.

"By order of _Praetor_ Reyna, leader of the Twelfth Legion and _Pro Tem_ military governor of New Rome, unauthorised large assemblies are now illegal. You are all ordered to disperse."

I saw Evan Lex square his shoulders and glare defiantly at Lord Octavian.

" _Praetor_ Reyna has no authority to issue such an order" he called out, his voice carrying over the crowd. "The people of New Rome have the freedom to meet in the public square whenever they like. You overstep your bounds, centurion."

I eyed the legionaries nervously. They looked on, impassive, but their grips tightened on their batons. They were anticipating a brawl.

"This meeting is over" Lord Octavian insisted. "Tell your people to disperse, or I will have no option but to use force."

The threat of violence hung heavy in the air. The crowd around Evan Lex shifted nervously, eying up the Legionaries. They had the advantage of numbers, but the Legionaries were trained soldiers who would make short work of the assembled mob. Evan must have realised this too, because he motioned his assent to Lord Octavian.

"Return to your homes" he told his supporters. "I will not see bloodshed. But mark this; today, Reyna has interrupted the people in lawful assembly. This does not bode well for New Rome. Clearly my law is more important than ever."

A group of burly looking citizens closed ranks around Evan, and he left the forum. The crowd slowly began to break up, and the Legionaries formed up behind Lord Octavian who exited the square in a huff, pushing onlookers out of his way.

I shook my head in amazement, just glad to have avoided a riot. New Rome was quickly becoming a tinder box, and Evan Lex seemed angry enough to provide the spark that would make the whole city go up in flames.


End file.
